


the arrival of the inevitable

by annejumps



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Gay Mutant Road Trip, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-19
Updated: 2017-06-19
Packaged: 2018-11-16 03:16:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11245206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annejumps/pseuds/annejumps
Summary: It's no different, really, is it, from that bed in the club where they'd met Angel. No different at all, not really, except that they're alone, it's dark, and instead of sitting up and leaning against each other, Charles is lying down and pulling Erik to lie next to him.





	the arrival of the inevitable

"C'mere," Charles says, low, in the dark.

They'd gone back to their room after the bar downstairs closed, and Erik can tell from where Charles' watch is that he's collapsed onto the nearest bed, the one Erik had picked since it was closest to the door. "C'mere," Charles slurs again, a smile in his voice, beckoning.

"Charles," Erik warns, mildly, and he's not sure what he's warning of, but his heart is beating faster and he feels lightheaded in a way that can't be accounted for by the single martini he had. Charles, although he doesn't have hangovers, drinks like he wants them, and he's always louche, handsy and friendly in a way that drives Erik up the wall. Erik goes to stand next to the bed, closing the door and locking it with his power, and doesn't turn on the lights.

"Come here," Charles says, more insistently, fumbling for his suit coat and pulling him onto the bed. Erik exaggerates his stumble as he lies down next to Charles—it's no different, really, is it, from that bed in the club where they'd met Angel, who's sleeping soundly a few rooms away where they'd left her. No different at all, not really, except that they're alone, it's dark, and instead of sitting up and leaning against each other, Charles is lying down and pulling Erik to lie next to him with the determined, impulsive strength of a drunken man.

"What is it, Charles," Erik says measuredly, trying not to sound as breathless as he feels.

"This," Charles replies, finding his tie and gripping it, pulling Erik toward him and—kissing him, clumsily pressing his soft lips to Erik's, the taste of alcohol sharp and sweet on him as he slides his tongue into Erik's surprised mouth. It's a wet kiss, the slickness and heat jumpstarting Erik's arousal, but just as Erik's gathered his wits about him as much as possible Charles withdraws with a soft laugh. He settles back with a pleased, amused sigh, and as Erik blinks at him, eyes adjusting in the dark, he realizes that Charles' eyes are now closed, and, smile still on his face, he's already asleep.

With some difficulty, Erik gets up and takes off his shoes, and his suit coat. He lies down on the other bed, after considering taking off Charles' shoes, ultimately deciding he doesn't deserve the courtesy. Charles begins to softly snore. Erik lies awake a while longer, tempted to wank off but ultimately deciding Charles doesn't merit the opportunity to eavesdrop on his pleasure, whether he should wake up or be able to sense it in his sleep. 

He'd do anything Charles asked, and Charles saw fit to drunkenly kiss him right before passing out.

He does eventually fall asleep, and he wakes to the sensation of his trousers and underwear being pulled down, and his hard cock being enveloped by warm wetness.

He gasps, head swimming, and is almost immediately met with a wave of mental reassurance from Charles. Charles, whose mouth is hot and tight around him. It honestly doesn't take Erik long at all, his surprise, bafflement, and intense arousal combining to lead to an embarrassing lack of finesse, but Charles being Charles, he doesn't object at all to Erik's pulling at his hair and artlessly moaning. To the contrary, Charles is absolutely enthralled to have caught Erik without his carefully arranged protective layers. He swallows him down, releases him, kisses his thighs above where he's pulled down his clothes, kisses his abdomen as Erik lies there panting and blinking at the ceiling in the dim light—the sun must just be rising.

"Charles," he gets out.

Charles sits up, straddling Erik's thighs; he's in his undershirt and boxers, and said boxers are notably tented. Erik swallows hard, sitting up on his elbows, and reaches into Charles' fly to touch him, closing his eyes for a moment at the gasp that draws from him. 

Erik wraps his hand around him, watches his chest rise and fall, noisy breaths the only sound in the room as Erik wanks him, slowly and firmly, watching and memorizing every reaction and the feel of Charles in his hand; the way his nostrils flare, the way he bites his lip, his brow knitting as he tightens his hands into fists. His breathing gets harder and he opens his eyes to stare at Erik, lips parting. _I'll mess your suit_ , he sends, covering Erik's hand with one of his own, hand hot against Erik's as he comes, catching it on his fingers as best he can. Erik could give a damn about his suit, but the drops of Charles that land on his bare middle make his cock twitch.

"Kiss me properly," he growls, pulling Charles down to him by his soft undershirt. 

Charles goes with no further urging; messy and undone, cocks out and come in various places, their mouths meet again, and Erik can't help a moan at the way Charles kisses him, as wet and hot as it was last night, but with a sureness that's present now that he's sober, and a possessiveness. 

Unsurprisingly, it's not long until they're both hard again, and with a short break for Charles to sit up and tug off his undershirt and get out of his shorts, and for Erik to get out of the rest of his suit, they're on each other again, hot bare skin pressed all down the lengths of each other's bodies. 

Charles is kissing him everywhere, jaw, neck, ear, shoulder, nipping at him, a hand hot and tight around him. He finds Charles' cock again, pleasantly thick and wet at the tip, with an intriguing stretchy foreskin, but there's no time to explore it because Charles is wanking him furiously, wanting him to come fast and hard.

And Erik does want that knot of built-up frustration completely gone, thinking of the little ways Charles has teased him with looks and lip-lickings since they'd met, so he strokes him just as hard and fast until Charles groans loudly and collapses on him, sending waves of pleasure that erupt through them both just as Erik's orgasm roils from the base of his spine. 

Panting, sweat- and come-slick, Charles nestles into him, mouth pressed against his skin, like he's always been nuzzled against him like this. He laughs softly.

"Mmm?" Erik inquires, a hand trailing down Charles' back.

"Just wondering whether I’ve made it up to you for that kiss," Charles replies.

"I'll let you know when you have," Erik informs him, shifting and turning under him to find his mouth again, feeling Charles' lips smiling against his own just before Charles slides his tongue into his mouth once more.


End file.
